Benjamin Franklin Papers - Poor Richard, 1733

I might in this place attempt to gain thy Favour, by declaring that I write Almanacks with no other View than that of the publick Good; but in this I should not be sincere; and Men are now a-days too wise to be deceiv’d by Pretences how specious soever. The plain Truth of the Matter is, I am excessive poor, and my Wife, good Woman, is, I tell her, excessive proud; she cannot bear, she says, to sit spinning in her Shift of Tow, while I do nothing but gaze at the Stars; and has threatened more than once to burn all my Books and Rattling-Traps (as she calls my Instruments) if I do not make some profitable Use of them for the good of my Family. The Printer has offer’d me some considerable share of the Profits, and I have thus begun to comply with my Dame’s desire.

Indeed this Motive would have had Force enough to have made me publish an Almanack many Years since, had it not been overpower’d by my Regard for my good Friend and Fellow-Student, Mr. Titan Leeds, whose Interest I was extreamly unwilling to hurt: But this Obstacle (I am far from speaking it with Pleasure) is soon to be removed, since inexorable Death, who was never known to respect Merit, has already prepared the mortal Dart, the fatal Sister has already extended her destroying Shears, and that ingenious Man must soon be taken from us. He dies, by my Calculation made at his Request, on Oct. 17. 1733. 3 ho. 29 m. P.M. at the very instant of the of and : By his own Calculation he will survive till the 26th of the same Month. This small difference between us we have disputed whenever we have met these 9 Years past; but at length he is inclinable to agree with my Judgment; Which of us is most exact, a little Time will now determine. As therefore these Provinces may not longer expect to see any of his Performances after this Year, I think my self free to take up the Task, and request a share of the publick Encourgement; which I am the more apt to hope for on this Account, that the Buyer of my Almanack may consider himself, not only as purchasing an useful Utensil, but as performing an Act of Charity, to his poor Friend and Servant

Saturn diseas’d with Age, and left for dead;

Chang’d all his Gold to be involv’d in Lead.

Jove, Juno leaves, and loves to take his Range;

From whom Man learns to love, and loves to change.

is disarmed, and to gone,

Where Vulcan’s Anvil must be struck upon.

That Luna’s horn’d, it cannot well be said,

Since I ne’er heard that she was married.

XI Mon. January hath xxxi days.

Old Batchelor would have a Wife that’s wise,

Fair, rich, and young, a Maiden for his Bed;

Not proud, nor churlish, but of faultless size;

A Country Houswife in the City bred.

He’s a nice Fool, and long in vain hath staid;

He should bespeak her, there’s none ready made.

Never spare the Parson’s wine, nor the Baker’s pudding.

A house without woman and Firelight, is like a body without soul

Kings and Bears often worry their keepers.

N.N. of B——s County, pray don’t be angry with poor Richard.

Light purse, heavy heart.

He’s a Fool that makes his Doctor his Heir.

Ne’er take a wife till thou hast a house (and a fire) to put her in.

He’s gone, and forgot nothing but to say Farewel—to his creditors.

Love well, whip well.

My Love and I for Kisses play’d,

She would keep stakes, I was content,

But when I won she would be paid;

This made me ask her what she meant:

Quoth she, since you are in this wrangling vein,

Here take your Kisses, give me mine again.

Let my respected friend J. G.

Accept this humble verse of me. viz.

Ingenious, learned, envy’d Youth,

Go on as thou’st began;

Even thy enemies take pride

That thou’rt their countryman.

Hunger never saw bad bread.

Kind Katharine to her husband kiss’d these words,

“Mine own sweet Will, how dearly I love thee!”

If true (quoth Will) the World no such affords.

And that its true I durst his warrant be;

For ne’er heard I of Woman good or ill,

But always loved best, her own sweet Will.

Beware of meat twice boil’d, and an old foe reconcil’d.

Great Talkers, little Doers.

A rich rogue, is like a fat hog, who never does good til as dead as

Relation without friendship, friendship without power, power

Mirth pleaseth some, to others’ tis offence,

Some commend plain conceit, some profound sense;

Some wish a witty Jest, some dislike that,

And most would have themselves they know not what.

Then he that would please all, and himself too,

Takes more in hand than he is like to do.

Eat to live, and not live to eat.

The favour of the Great is no inheritance.

Fools make feasts and wise men eat’em.

Beware of the young Doctor and the old Barber.

He has chang’d his one ey’d horse for a blind one.

The poor have little, beggars none, the rich too much, enough not

“Observe the daily circle of the sun,

And the short year of each revolving moon:

By them thou shalt forsee the following day,

Nor shall a starry night thy hopes betray.

When first the moon appears, if then she shrouds

Her silver crescent, tip’d with sable clouds,

Conclude she bodes a tempest on the main,

And brews for fields impetuous floods of rain.”

After 3 days men grow weary, of a wench, a guest, and weather

To lengthen thy Life, lessen thy Meals.

The proof of gold is fire, the proof of woman, gold; the proof of

After feasts made, the maker scratches his head.

“Ev’n while the reaper fills his greedy hands,

And binds the golden sheafs in brittle bands:

Oft have I seen a sudden storm arise

From all the warring winds that sweep the skies:

And oft whole sheets descend of slucy rain,

Suck’d by the spungy clouds from off the main;

The lofty skies at once come pouring down,

The promis’d crop and golden labours drown.”

Neither Shame nor Grace yet Bob.

He that lies down with Dogs, shall rise up with fleas.

A fat kitchin, a lean Will.

Distrust and caution are the parents of security.

Tongue double, brings trouble.

“For us thro’ 12 bright signs Apollo guides

The year, and earth in sev’ral climes divides.

Five girdles bind the skies, the torrid zone

Glows with the passing and repassing sun.

Far on the right and left, th’extreams of heav’n,

To frosts and snows and bitter blasts are giv’n.

Betwixt the midst and these, the Gods assign’d

Two habitable seats for humane kind.”

Take counsel in wine, but resolve afterwards in water.

He that drinks fast, pays slow.

Great famine when wolves eat wolves.

A good Wife lost is God’s gift lost.

A taught horse, and a woman to teach, and teachers practising

He is ill cloth’d, who is bare of Virtue.

Death is a Fisherman, the world we see

His Fish-pond is, and we the Fishes be:

His Net some general Sickness; howe’er he

Is not so kind as other Fishers be;

For if they take one of the smaller Fry,

They throw him in again, he shall not die:

But Death is sure to kill all he can get,

And all is Fish with him that comes to Net.

The heart of a fool is in his mouth, but the mouth of a wise man is

Men and Melons are hard to know.

He’s the best physician that knows the worthlessness of the most

Beware of meat twice boil’d, and an old Foe reconcil’d.

A fine genius in his own country, is like gold in the mine.

There is no little enemy.

Time was my spouse and I could not agree,

Striving about superiority:

The text which saith that man and wife are one,

Was the chief argument we stood upon:

She held, they both one woman should become;

I held they should be man, and both but one.

Thus we contended daily, but the strife

Could not be ended, till both were one Wife.

He has lost his Boots but sav’d his spurs.

The old Man has given all to his Son: O fool! to undress thy self

Cheese and salt meat, should be sparingly eat.

Doors and walls are fools paper.

Anoint a villain and he’ll stab you, stab him and he’l anoint you.

Keep your mouth wet, feet dry.

My neighbour H——y by his pleasing tongue,

Hath won a Girl that’s rich, wise, fair and young;

The Match (he saith) is half concluded, he

Indeed is wondrous willing; but not she.

And reason good, for he has run thro’ all

Almost the story of the Prodigal;

Yet swears he never with the hogs did dine;

That’s true, for none would trust him with their swine.

Where bread is wanting, all’s to be sold.

There is neither honour nor gain, got in dealing with a vil-lain.

Snowy winter, a plentiful harvest.

Nothing more like a Fool, than a drunken Man.

She that will eat her breakfast in her bed,

And spend the morn in dressing of her head,

And sit at dinner like a maiden bride,

And talk of nothing all day but of pride;

God in his mercy may do much to save her,

But what a case is he in that shall have her.

God works wonders now and then;

Behold! a Lawyer, an honest Man!

He that lives carnally, won’t live eternally.

Innocence is its own Defence.

Never mind it, she’l be sober after the Holidays.

Two Beggars travelling along,

One blind, the other lame,

Pick’d up an Oyster on the Way

To which they both laid claim:

The Matter rose so high, that they

Resolv’d to go to Law,

As often richer Fools have done,

Who quarrel for a Straw.

A Lawyer took it strait in hand,

Who knew his Business was,

To mind nor one nor t’other side,

But make the best o’ th’ Cause;

As always in the Law’s the Case:

So he his Judgment gave,

And Lawyer-like he thus resolv’d

What each of them should have:

Blind Plaintiff, lame Defendant, share

The Friendly Laws impartial Care,

A Shell for him, a Shell for thee,

The Middle is the Lawyer’s Fee.